


scattered with the wind

by cyclothimic



Series: the start and end of my feverish feelings [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Army, Army AU, F/M, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Romance, Soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry turned to the Staff Sergeant, who hadn't looked at him once since the first time their eyes met across the room when he first entered and reported himself. He had never been in such close distance with Snow before, and he couldn't breathe. Well, technically, he was breathing – his lungs were pumping air, and his nostrils were circulating with oxygen and carbon dioxide. The only thing was all that air wasn't really reaching his brain, because he couldn't think at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scattered with the wind

**Author's Note:**

> i've been watching kdrama descendants of the sun and i've always been a weakling for army AU so i thought why not? it took me almost a month to finish this fic because i wanted it to be perfect, though it's probably not.
> 
> anyway, read, ponder and enjoy!

_When I see you_

_Everything stops_

_I don't know since when_

_-Always, Yoon Mi Rae_

* * *

Rhythmic footsteps pounded across the compound in neat and quick formation, accompanied by a military cadence belted out with a mixture of off-tune and accurate notes by a group comprising of 8 shirtless men.

 _The Army calls 'em drill sergeants,_  
The Navy calls 'em RDCs,  
The Air Force calls 'em their TI's;

This was, of course, one of the many military cadences one could hear in the early mornings while Alpha Company, 1st Battalion of 1st Special Forces Group perform their daily morning runs under the blazing sun of Kedah, Malaysia. Today, the run was led by the Assistant Detachment Commander – Assistant Commander, in short – Barry Allen.

 _But mine is strictly a DI:_  
"Drill instructor", then his rank,  
Unless you want to play games,  
Never "sir" or something more,  
Or my face is on the floor.

"Commander!" a clear-cut, feminine voice cut through the cadence, stopping exactly no one but the targeted audience.

Barry slowed down his tracks, halting his singing and turned towards the familiar voice. Of course, the voice would be familiar. How could it not when he had spent his days and nights searching for it since he had been dispatched over here to back up the platoon she was in?

"Sergeant Snow," he addressed as he attempted to slow his breathing from the run, not completely oblivious to the way the medic's eyes momentarily roved over his half naked form before meeting his eyes. "I thought Non-Commissioned Officers are supposed to run too."

Snow only nodded in agreement, glancing down at her wristwatch. "Did my run two hours ago."

Barry frowned for a short second before he remembered that she was of a platoon that was a completely different entity to his company, despite the fact that his company was here to back her platoon up. "I see." He stared at the woman standing in front of him, dressed in her standard issue combat issue standard uniform with her hair in a tight bun and her clipboard under her armpit. "What can I help you with, Sergeant?" he questioned.

Without a hint of delay, Snow brought her clipboard forward and flipped a few pages until she reached the desired page. "Just to let you know that your company is up for an update to your medical records today," she said, her face carrying no expression other than sternness and refusal to take any shit.

Barry fought the sigh from announcing his exhaustion from the knowledge that he would be subjected to the second most hated task since he joined the military. He nodded and smiled in appreciation for her reminder, even though she was still as stony faced as ever. "Will do, Sergeant."

Their eyes stayed locked for a few more seconds before her expression slipped into something that he couldn't quite identify before she returned to her stone-faced normality. She nodded, saluted, and then started striding away to the direction of her camp.

"See you later, Sergeant!" he called out, watching her retreating form until he had to sprint to catch up with his company.

* * *

Staff Sergeant Caitlin Snow had been the snag of his attention since the chopper carrying his company landed here in the dead of a 2 in the morning darkness. He was sleepy, hungry, and jetlagged – almost dead on his feet – when he carried his rucksack on his back off the chopper along with his comrades, standing just several feet behind his company's Detachment Commander, Oliver Queen.

They were confronted with their welcoming party, consisting of Platoon Sergeant Laurel Lance, Staff Sergeant Caitlin Snow and a handful of privates. Barry was almost instantly brought to near wakefulness at the sight of Snow, dressed in her combat uniform with her patrol cap neatly atop her head, standing in alert to meet them.

It was dark; the airfield was only illuminated by the weak orange streetlamps and the reducing illuminated of the chopper headlights as it made its ascent, but he would never be able to forget the first time he took notice of the extraordinary woman standing behind the beautiful sergeant, both staring at them – he would like to think that Snow was staring at him – with mild detest and slight exhaustion. He wouldn't blame them, because even he would hate whoever it was that disturbed him from his sleep.

Oliver stood straight, forming a salute, the company mirroring his motion. "Alpha Company, 1st Battalion of 1st Special Forces, reporting for duty!"

Sergeant Lance – Laurel Lance – saluted in return before they all eased up. "Morning, Commander Queen."

Oliver nodded. "To you too, Sergeant Lance."

Barry watched as the two top officers among the groups engaged each other in a staring battle. Not that Barry was complaining or curious, because Oliver had explained his complicated relationship-turned-friendship during their flight here, but he just really wanted a nice comfy mattress to get a few hours of shuteye before their morning run, and his rucksack was really weighing down his back.

"Of course you would find the rudest way possible to disturb my peace and quiet, wouldn't you, Commander?" Lance finally spoke up, this time her lips were quirked into a friendly smile.

Oliver shrugged. "We're soldiers, Sergeant. We don't get peace and quiet." Barry couldn't see his Commander but he could hear the smile in his voice. "Now, I'm sure your privates and my company are tired as hell. Why don't you escort us back to the base and we will catch up while these weaklings get some shuteye?" He gestured casually behind him.

Lance nodded. "Good idea."

All this while, Barry could barely keep his eyes off the woman standing behind Laurel, whom he almost suspected was a statue instead of a real human being if it wasn't for the minute rise and fall of her chest that proved him otherwise. Something about her intrigued him, despite the fact that he didn't know her name or rank, and as Oliver led him and the company towards the vehicles provided to escort them back to the base, Barry was convinced to know who this woman was.

* * *

"Pretty sure you're the only happy to have needles poking at your skin later," Oliver grumbled when Barry told him about the medical records update.

Barry frowned, lounging in the chair opposite Oliver's as he put his feet up on his Commander's desk. "No, I'm not."

Oliver glared at his disturbing feet for a few moments before he decided that he couldn't be bother with it, and shifted his gaze over to Barry. "Aren't you?" he asked skeptically, his lips twitching in a rare smile.

The younger man narrowed his eyes at Oliver, and then he smirked. "It's almost like you loving it whenever there's a technical problem back home, isn't it?"

The Commander's smirk vanished entirely, replaced by a scowl. He pointed a finger in Barry's direction and said in warning tone, "This conversation is over."

Barry made a mental fist pump for making Oliver speechless again. It was a quiet fact that was kept on a hush-hush among the company and their colleagues at the facility back home that the only person who could make Oliver speechless or put him in his place was a certain bespectacled lady in National Security Agency. To further prove that not-so-theory-theory, Barry once snuck a peek of Oliver's wallet and saw a photo of that lady in his wallet.

He grinned wider and removed his shoes from Oliver's desk, leaning against the desk on his elbows. "Why haven't you asked her out?"

Oliver ignored him and went back to his paperwork.

"Pretty much all of 1st Battalion know about you and her. And it's pretty obvious that she has a raging crush on you, which also means that she's sure to say yes if you ask her out."

"Don't you have a medical update to get ready for, Allen?"

Barry whistled. "Allen, huh?" He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't sleep with Sergeant Lance, did you?"

Oliver's head snapped up, his eyes glaring daggers. "I would _never_ –" He clenched his jaw shut abruptly. Barry would have kept teasing if it wasn't for Oliver's expression; he had obviously hit a nerve. "Go do your job, Allen."

Barry frowned. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Happened." He wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to pursue when Oliver's face softened and his eyes flickered with distress. "Just leave me alone. I'll see you later at medics."

* * *

He glared at the soldiers trickling out of the tent almost immediately after Snow was done with them. They were supposed to be comrades, to stick with each other through the hard times. But now, look at them, abandoning him alone with Sergeant Snow because they were scared of _needles_.

"Bunch of cowards," he cursed under his breath, sneering at West who shot him an apologetic look before ducking under the flap of the tent entrance.

Fine, let them go, let them die under the searing hot sun of the country smack dab in the middle of the equator; he could be here, enjoying the cold air of the air conditioners they provided the medical officers. Except maybe not, considering Sergeant Snow was touching his arm with her delicate gloved hands.

Barry turned to the Staff Sergeant, who hadn't looked at him once since the first time their eyes met across the room when he first entered and reported himself. He had never been in such close distance with her before, and he couldn't breathe. Well, technically, he was breathing – his lungs were pumping air, and his nostrils were circulating with oxygen and carbon dioxide. The only thing was all that air wasn't really reaching his brain, because he couldn't think _at all_.

At this moment, her hair was brown, sun kissed with shades of copper, bundled up into the neatest bun he had ever seen on a female comrade. At this moment, her eyelashes were lowered a fraction, fanning just a hair's breadth from her cheeks as her gaze zeroed in on the needle she was poking into his arm. At this moment, he didn't need a clear view to see that the pupils of her big brown eyes were focused and unwavering. At this moment, she was touching him and he didn't want her to stop, even at his own expense.

He had been here for a little over two weeks and he had tried to subtly siphon information about this woman sitting in front of him. He wasn't being stalker-ish, though some might beg to differ. He just really wanted to know who she was, even though he knew he would never have a chance with her – not as long as they were both in the same platoon, technically.

"What?"

He blinked a couple of times before he frowned. "Sorry?"

She didn't look up, just looked away when she was done poking and began to let the instruments do their job as she took the chart off the table his arm was resting on and started reading. "You're staring at me."

In two weeks, he had discovered that apart from Sergeant Lance and a field engineer, Corporal Cisco Ramon, Snow didn't really talk to anyone unless there were official matters. Word had it that she had a fiancé from another battalion but things ended up not working out and they broke up. Thing was: there really wasn't much to know about Staff Sergeant Caitlin Snow.

"Oh, I –" Crap. How was he supposed to tell her that he might just be a little in love with her and that might not go away because he had never been so dumbstruck by a woman before? "Nothing," he dismissed, hoping that she wouldn't pursue.

She lifted her gaze from the chart, casting a sharp look in his direction, which shook him in his seat and not for the right reasons. He allowed himself a few seconds to stare at her lips before meeting her eyes again. "I don't like being stared at," she naturally spoke, as if it was something that she told everyone all the time.

"I – I wasn't –" He shut up when she cocked her brows in a cynical manner. He decided to just come out with it and stop being such a coward around her. He sighed and cocked his head, staring at her curiously. "People don't know much about you around here, do they?"

She elevated her head, discarding the chart on the table and gave him her full attention. "Should they?"

He shrugged, careful with the arm that was still diffusing blood into the tube. "Out in the field like this, we're supposed to build foundations, so that we know we can trust each other with our lives if anything happens."

"I am aware."

"How are your comrades – your soldiers – supposed to trust you when they don't know a thing about you?"

"What's your point, Commander Allen?" Her voice was icy.

If he was not an Assistant Commander of his own company, he would have just cowered down and scramble out of the tent, needle and all. "I want to know if I can trust you in the field if it comes down to it. I want to know if our soldiers can trust you if it comes down to it. And I don't know if I can because none of us know anything about it." Except Laurel Lance and Cisco Ramon, but never mind that, he thought bitterly.

Snow's eyes narrowed just a fraction, only enough for the people who were looking directly at her to notice. She cleared her throat and proceeded to check the tube by leaning in and giving him a whiff of her hair scent – apple and cider – which almost made him pass out. Then, satisfied with the volume, she gently removed the needle from within his skin, showing professionalism even though it was obvious that he had irked her somehow with his probing queries.

As she began to jot down notes on his chart, she said, "I'm 24 years old, two years younger than you. My rank is E-6. I have been enlisted since I was 19, which means five years. I've been on three tours: Iraq, Afghanistan and Afghanistan again. _That_ is how our soldiers will know to trust me with their lives, because I have been on the field and I have been in combat. However, whether you trust this information or not is up to you, though I must say…" she drifted off, signing her name on the bottom of the chart and looking at him, "…for an Assistant Detachment Commander in the Special Forces, no less, your investigative skills need a little brush up because that information isn't that much of a secret."

He stared at her; slack jawed, not because she had voluntarily offered information – though that was quite surprising itself – but because while she finally finished with his chart, she looked at him with mischief in her eyes and a slight teasing smile across her lips.

"Yes, Commander, I know you've been asking around about me," Snow poked the balloon.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to shake away thoughts like grabbing her face and kissing her and asking her out for a drink and maybe more. He nodded. "Well, a guy's gotta start somewhere."

She hummed. "Next time, Commander, just ask me. If I can tell you, I will."

He nodded again, because he didn't know anything else to say. He stood up and buttoned up his jacket, grabbing his patrol cap from his back pocket and putting it on. "I will, Sergeant Snow. Thanks."

"See you around."

"See you around," he replied before pushing the flap open and crawling under it to get out into the sun.

Oliver was standing nearby, leaning against a pole with a bottle of chilled water in his hand. Barry caught it when the man tossed it across the distance towards him. Oliver had a teasing smile on his face when he asked, "How was it?"

Barry guzzled from the bottle to hydrate his suddenly dry throat which was a direct result from the longest conversation he had ever had with the woman inside the tent behind him. And then he gave Oliver the bottle back, stared into the distance, and then shook his head, before walking away.

He needed to know more about Staff Sergeant Caitlin Snow.

**Author's Note:**

> ...it's flawed, i know. i tried. hope you guys like it!
> 
> i might turn it into a series if the response turns out well. who knows?


End file.
